Adventures of a Lad at Sea
by Visage
Summary: Selected adventures of Ben Cartwright as a young Seaman. Updated 10/28
1. First Sight

Adventures of a Lad at Sea

By Visage

Chapter 1: First Sight

Rating: PG (Maybe just a strong G? Implied Child Abuse, but nothing actually seen).

Feedback: Yes, please!

…

She ran to the wharf, flutters of excitement growing inside with each call of the docking whistle. Sailors were already gathering thickly on the shore unloading cargo or greeting loved ones. She stood a few feet away on the tips of her toes, searching for one sailor in particular.

Nervously she fingered the ribbons in her dark pigtails. She pranced on her feet, dodging the quickly thinning crowd of families. There was a sunken feeling in the pit of her stomach. Did she confuse the days? Maybe there had been an accident. What a fool she would feel like if he never appeared!

'_There!_' She beamed as her eye caught the tall, slender form proudly walking toward her. His Captain's uniform was crisply pressed, accenting his muscular arms and shoulders, toned from years of hard work at sea. His cap was sitting straight, but unable to keep a few tufts of thinning salt-and-pepper hair from escaping. She abandoned her lookout post and ran, her arms stretched wide. "Father!"

The Captain reached out and grabbed the whirlwind of a little girl under her arms and swung her in the air. He made a few circles before cuddling her close to his chest.

"Elizabeth, my child!" Captain Stoddard kissed his little girl gently on the cheek before loosening his hold and settling her against his hip. The girl leaned back to look her Father in the eye. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Pretty Girl. Did you miss me?"

"Maybe a little." She answered, a sneaky sweet smile on her face. "It's hard to tell when afternoon tea is without your snores sounding from the den."

Try as he might, The Captain couldn't keep a straight face. "Why you Cheeky Monkey!" His daughter covered her mouth trying to stifle the stream of giggles. "My how you've sprouted since I've seen you last. Have you been a good girl while I've been away?"

"Of course I have, Father!" Elizabeth said. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Well how am I to know if you deserve your present or not?"

Elizabeth's eyes grew round as saucers. "A present for me?"

Captain Stoddard set the girl down on the ground and reached into his trouser pockets. He fished out thin brown package tied with string. "I found these when we stopped in the Orient. I hope you like them."

Elizabeth tore into the package and drew out a long blue ribbon. "Oh, Father, they're beautiful! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Child. It's made of pure silk, from real Chinese silk worms. Something special to tie in your hair."

"It matches my Easter dress perfectly!" She wrapped her arms around her Father's legs as far as she could reach.

"Well, if you can bear to let go for just a moment, I have someone I want you to meet." Captain Stoddard said with a laugh. He turned slightly behind him, reaching his arm out in invitation. With cautious steps, a boy appeared.

Only looking a few years older than herself, he already stood to Captain Stoddard's chest. His clothes hung on his lanky frame, sleeves not quite covering his wrists and pants exposing his ankles. A mess of dark hair flopped on his forehead from under a worn cap a few sizes too big. At his side, he tightly gripped a small bag as if it contained all of his worldly possessions.

Captain Stoddard stood behind the boy, a hand on each shoulder. He leaned down slightly and spoke to the boy. "This is my daughter, Elizabeth. Remember, the one I was telling you about? Liz, may I present Benjamin Cartwright."

The boy nodded and bowed slightly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth felt her stomach flip as her eyes met the boy's. Try as she might, she couldn't turn away from those richly dark eyes.

The Captain cleared his throat to bring her out of her trance. She gathered a handful of her skirt and curtseyed with a hint of a wobble. "How do you do?"

"Found him on another ship, didn't we, Lad?" Captain Stoddard said. "He's a little on the scrawny side, but I figured a few decent meals on land should keep him from washing overboard. Think there's something for a few hungry seamen at home?"

"Now that's a silly question." Elizabeth blurted out, her hands on her hips. "Mother has been working on your welcome home supper all afternoon."

"You're right, Child." The Captain said, "What e_ver _was I thinking? Lead the way, Lassie."

"Come on, Benjamin!" Elizabeth grabbed the boy by the arm and started dragging him down the street. "Just wait 'til you try the carrots and onions. It's Mother's recipe, but she let me make it almost all myself!"

Captain Stoddard stared at his bold daughter for nearly full minute before shaking in head with a laugh and following at a much slower pace.

…

There is nothing in the world quite like the velvety texture of clams slow cooked in a broth of fresh cream with just a hint of spicy pepper. Captain Stoddard couldn't help but close his eyes in enjoyment as a potato chunk rolled over his tongue, melting in his mouth. Sure, there were rich and exotic foods to sample when he went to Port and Cookie did his best with the limited supplies on _The_ _Wanderer_, but that only made him crave Meg's home cooked meals when he was away from the shores of New England all the more.

And his beloved Wife did not disappoint. Just as she did every time he returned home, she set out a feast that would have put any King's table to shame; Fresh bread, roasted root vegetables, roast pork, apple dressing and of course, his very favorite, clam chowder. If his nose was working properly, he detected the faintest hint of chocolate cake in the air, probably cooling in the window for dessert.

Captain Stoddard's new Cabin Boy seemed to share his sentiments. He couldn't hide his amusement as he watched Young Cartwright heartily enjoy his chowder, only pausing to politely answer a question from someone at the table. The small face disappeared behind the china bowl as it was lifted up to scrape the last morsels into his mouth. As he set the bowl back on the table, the Captain could see it took all of the boy's willpower not to lick it clean.

Ben noticed The Captain's gaze and froze. He sheepishly put his hands in his lap and looked up at the Captain in apology. Captain Stoddard just winked and quietly put another roll on the boy's plate.

Meg kept a close eye on the boy as well, scooping second and third helpings on his plate the moment she heard the scratch of silverware against dish. She would give him a quiet smile that didn't reach her eyes, visibly disturbed by the hollow cheeks and lanky limbs. Her hand would linger on his shoulder just long enough that Captain Stoddard worried she would scoop the boy up in her arms like a toddler.

Elizabeth however didn't seem to notice the silent conversation between her parents, only having eyes for their guest. She sat next to Ben at the table and scooted her chair almost on top of his. She would quickly take bites of dinner when her mother caught her, but was content to absently play with her food and watch him with calf-love eyes.

When Elizabeth finally finished enough of her dinner to please her parents, she had excitedly begged to show Ben the backyard and her new swing. The Captain almost refused, thinking Ben wouldn't want to play with a girl, and especially not a ten year old one. But the silent request for permission, excitement bubbling from his newest seaman changed his mind. He excused them both with a wave of his hand and an admonishment not to go too far.

Elizabeth bounded from her chair and out the door, Ben close on her heels.

It was there at the dinner table nearly an hour later that Captain Stoddard sat deep in thought. His pipe had long ago run out of tobacco but he still held it between his teeth absently. Two months had passed since he met up with that Slaver. Normally he steered clear of those wretched ships, but a feeling in his gut made him call the order to drop anchor and climb aboard.

He could still clearly see the small room, barely bigger than a closet near the Captain's berth, the small movement that caught his eye. The underweight boy that emerged caked in dirt and patches of dried blood. How he refused to meet anyone's eyes and stayed out of arms reach of the crew. He was still amazed that he was able to barter for him. At more than one point he was afraid he wouldn't have a ship by the end of the negotiations. Though, he had to admit, if he had the chance to do it again he wouldn't have thought twice. He was only sorry he couldn't do anything for the Poor Devils below deck.

The Captain knew very few details about the boy, most of which he discovered by accident. There was something about an older brother at home said with such admiration in his voice that spoke of a small case of hero worship. He heard something about his Mother's sugar cookies once, wistful with a hint of homesickness. He was bright with his letters and figures and would do anything asked of him, but he clearly enjoyed physical tasks that had him out in the fresh air. Captain Stoddard had told the boy he would get him back home to his Parents, he was sure they missed him. But Ben just shook his head firmly; he needed to at least pay off his debt to the Captain for his freedom first.

Over the course of dinner, a bright spark appeared in Ben's eyes that The Captain hadn't seen before. The boy who unknowingly boarded that Slaver almost a year earlier began to reappear as his posture loosened in his seat and his answers became longer than a few words. There were still moments of fear, flinching when someone moved too quickly, being overly polite in every situation, but he was confident those damn quirks would fade with time and the right amount of care. The Boy could use some Mothering, there was no denying that, but someone his age would never stand for an overt display of affection, especially one as prideful as Young Cartwright. No, this was one nut he was going to have to convince to crack, rather than force open.

The Captain stood and went to the window. In the yard his Elizabeth was firmly in her swing. She had somehow cajoled Young Cartwright into pushing her until the grin on his face matched her own. Giggling, she begged to go higher and higher until she was floating high enough to reach out and touch the sky. Ben stood behind her, whooping and hollering with each push as if he used every ounce of his being. He followed her path through the air, watching as the breeze caught the tails of her new ribbons to dance in delight.

A smile slowly crept onto the Captain's face as well. It seemed as if a young friendship had developed before his very eyes. If he knew Elizabeth was the key to decoding his new crewman, he would have headed home weeks ago.

There was a fine officer and a good man to be found somewhere in there. He just had to chip away at the marble until the masterpiece was revealed.


	2. Life's Lessons

Adventures of a Lad at Sea

Chapter 2: Life's Lessons

Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes, Please!

Warnings: None

A/N: The first chapter of this story was originally a standalone, something that I started years and years ago but forgot about until recently. Then I had the bright idea that this could be more than that. HOWEVER. I _didn't_ realize that while being a Farm Girl has its distinct advantages for writing about Ranch life, I know absolutely nothing about the Sea. …And I mean legit nothing. So, this is turning into more of a challenge than I originally planned. I'm diving into some interesting research, but this story is beginning to take on a life of its own in the complete opposite direction. Just a warning.

Thank you all so much for your feedback so far! I hope you enjoy this next bit just as much!

…

_ Skritch, skritch, skritch_

The coarse sandstone of the holystone made a very distinctive sound when rubbed against the wooden deck of a sailing ship. Soft and grainy, the rhythmic movement dipped up and down slightly in pitch, almost mimicking the beginnings of a soft summer rainstorm. The water and grit foamed as they mixed, but leaved the promise of a gleaming white teak deck.

Ben Cartwright, perched on his hands and knees, scrubbed the deck of _The Wanderer_. The sun was shining brightly in the mid-afternoon, providing just enough warmth to be comfortable without his jacket. A slight breeze drifted across the deck, filling the sails just right to keep the ship headed for their next destination. A few of the crew were scattered around the deck, tugging on the rigging, checking the equipment, going about the general business of the ship, paying the lanky Cabin Boy little mind.

Sitting back on his heels, Ben stretched his arms high above his head trying to work out a knot in his shoulder blades. He sighed when he felt the satisfying pop and let his hands drop to his lap. A little reluctantly, he put the stone to the deck again and began to scrub. Thankfully, he only had a few feet of deck left to cover before he was done for the afternoon. To be honest, he was glad to be working on a task that had him in one place for a while. He must have run the length of the ship four times over that morning alone, between moving a load of crates from farthest Cargo Hold to the galley for Cookie, running messages between The Crow's Nest and the Captain's Quarters, and polishing practically everything on the ship made of metal.

"Ben Laddie?" A familiar voice called from behind. Ben stopped, turning his torso around to confirm what his ears already told him. Captain Stoddard walked across the deck, nodding to the crew as he passed. His face was stern and commanding, his posture demanding of respect.

Ben immediately got to his feet, standing as straight as he could, his arms stiffly at his sides. "Hullo, Captain Stoddard, Sir."

"Ah, as you were, Sailor." The Captain said, a slight smirk betraying the hard exterior he projected. He leaned against the ship railing, crossing his arms lazily across his chest. "I've been looking all over for you! Seems you're moving right along, there. I thought you'd still be working on the brass."

"Nah," Ben said with a shrug. "I got a system figured out for that. Besides, there's nothing to it if you don't dawdle on it."

The Captain couldn't hide a laugh. "Well, since you've got such a handle on life at sea-" Captain Stoddard said, a mischievous twinkle gleamed in his eye as he paused for dramatic effect.

Ben felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. The Captain probably thought he rushed through his chores and was going to heap a pile of work on him as punishment. Thoughts of an evening of freedom were beginning to vanish, wafting away like a plume of smoke from a pipe. He was so distracted he almost missed the second half of the Captain's sentence.

"How about you come down to my quarters when you've finished? I'll let you have your pick of a book to read. Something from my personal collection, maybe?"

Ben's eyes grew round as saucers. He caught his jaw before it completely dropped. "Really? That would be fantastic! Thank you, Sir!"

"You're more than welcome, Ben Laddie." Captain Stoddard said with a thoughtful smile. "I know how much you enjoy a good story. Besides, it'd give me someone to talk to about it. The rest of the crew doesn't seem to be as interested in quality literature like we are."

"Well, that's not so bad is it? It takes all sorts, doesn't it?"

"Ah yes," the Captain answered. "But what are those men going to do when they're my age and their backs are too crooked to haul cargo anymore? Remember, Benjamin. It's important to keep the mind exercised as well as the body."

Ben looked up at the Captain from under his cap. He had done well in school, enjoying the storytelling of literature and history. His brother had often teased him when his nose was stuck in a book even after his homework was finished. Him and figures, however, were not always on the best of terms. He could generally reason them out if he concentrated enough on them, but it was always a chore. His books had always been a comfort to him when he was stuck in bed with a cold, or cooped up in the house on a rainy day with no one to play with. He couldn't imagine a life without some form of escape.

The Captain spoke again, interrupting Ben's thoughts. "You've been working so hard for me these past few months, really above and beyond. Worth every cent I spent on you." Captain Stoddard finished with a wink.

Ben looked down at the deck, his ears flushing bright red. Captain Stoddard was a good man, but he rarely gave out compliments unless he really meant it.

"Now if only I had fifteen Ben Cartwrights on my crew I'd be set." Captain Stoddard tugged on the brim of Ben's cap fondly, covering his eyes. He turned and walked back across the deck, calling over his shoulder before disappearing. "Don't forget! I'll be around after supper tonight."

Ben sucked in a deep lungful of air with pride, a grin growing on his face with each ounce of air. As he watched the Captain's retreating form, he almost saw Joseph Cartwright sauntering down the deck. There were a lot of things about the Captain that reminded Ben of his Father. They had the same smooth tenor voice, full of kindness and strength. The same arm that could lift the heaviest load of cargo yet could give the gentlest touch of comfort around a young shoulder. Though his Father had never been Captain of a ship, there was the same aura of respect that radiated from his very being. Ben had to admit, the Captain was quicker to joke than his Old Man and often liked to gently tease those closest to him. The boy smirked, unconsciously rubbing his backside where it began to sympathetically tingle at the memory of many 'very necessary talks' with his Father. No, Joseph Cartwright hadn't appreciated a good sense of humor or encouraged a young boy's sense of adventure like Captain Stoddard did.

The pride in his chest collapsed, replaced by a deep ache. The winter they had lost Father had been a difficult one for the Cartwrights. John quit school, forced to find work to support his family while his Mother opened the house to boarders. The deep scar was still raw and festering, eating away at Ben. With more force than was needed, Ben furiously began to scrub at the wood.

"If you're not careful you'll scrub a hole clean through the deck." A voice called from behind. A distinctive drawl, slightly high pitched, it could only come from one person. Cookie stopped, inches away from Ben and gave him time to turn around on his own. He either didn't notice Ben rubbing at the hot tears welling in his eyes or didn't mention it.

"And if you spring a leak in Cap'n Stoddard's little boat he's gonna be mighty pissed."

Ben couldn't stop the small smile that crept on his face. He pivoted on his feet, still kneeling to face the cook. Cookie was a small man with only a few inches on the twelve year old Cabin Boy. His face was weathered, permanently tanned from years in the wind and sun, his nose crooked from a fight in his youth. His belly, large and round, sat on two skinny chicken legs, most likely from a few too many nights with a beer glass. He was holding a small tray covered with a handkerchief in his arms.

"And if he ever heard you call _The Wanderer_ a 'Little Boat,'" Ben said. "The Captain would find a plank to make you walk off of."

Cookie laughed loudly. He had to grab onto the railing of the ship to steady himself. "You're not kidding there, Ben! Not kidding at all."

"Did you need something, Cookie?" Ben asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "I didn't forget any of those crates on you this morning, did I?"

"Not at all, Ben!" Cookie replied. "You made such quick work of it I should be set for a few weeks. I wanted to come up here and thank you. I was bringing Cap'n a little snack and thought you'd like one too, seeing as you've done me such a favor." With a flourish, Cookie took off the handkerchief from the tray revealing a platter of golden biscuits, steam still rising off of them. Ben closed his eyes, the heavenly scent wafting into his nostrils. His stomach rumbled as if on cue.

"Gee, thanks Cookie!" Ben reached out and plucked one off the top, immediately taking a giant bite. It was a rare treat for Cookie to fire up the small, make-shift oven in the galley. It slowly melted in his mouth as he chewed, the sweetness tickling his tongue. "Absolutely delicious. A guy could get right spoiled with such service." A shower of crumbs flew out of his mouth as he spoke.

"Take two, they're small." Cookie said with a laugh. Ben didn't need to be told twice, reaching out with his empty hand. "Only fair to repay you for your hard work earlier today, Ben. You wouldn't believe the hemming and hawing that I hear when I ask one of the crew to lug supplies for me. You think I'd asked them to sell their mothers into slavery."

Ben paused mid-chew, giving the cook a confused look. "I was only doing what you asked. It's my job , isn't it?"

"Aye, that it is." Cookie replaced the cover on the tray. "But it's important to take good care of the people who work under you, whether they're expected to or not. Bookkeepers, Maintenance Men, Cabin Boys; you know, the ones no one gives two thoughts about. If you make sure they know their help is appreciated, they'll be more willing to help you out in the future."

Ben swallowed his mouthful of biscuit. "Well it sure worked on me. You can have me every day of the week if you pay me in baked goods."

Cookie couldn't stop another belly laugh, nearly knocking him to his feet. "Don't you go giving the Cap'n any ideas, you Scamp! You'll wind up making even more work for me!"

"Cartwright?" Ben flinched at the sound of the sharp tone behind him. He closed his eyes, hoping if he didn't move he wouldn't be seen. Though he hadn't much luck yet, he was still holding onto a sliver of hope.

"Oh, Boy," Cookie muttered under his breath. "It's everyone's favorite First Officer."

"Cartwright!" The footsteps were heavy as they quickly approached. On a good day, Ben often was the First Mate's errand boy, completing mindless tasks for him just because he could order the Cabin Boy around. Today, the First Mate sounded like a bear with a sore head. Ben looked up at the cook with pleading eyes.

"Oh, no." Cookie said. "You're crazy if you think I'm sticking around for this. Godspeed, Dear Boy." He gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he hobbled toward the Captain's Quarters directly in the path of the First Mate.

Jeremy Ellis stood a few inches taller than his Captain. Stronger in body than mind, his biggest fault was that he was young and inexperienced, being promoted more out of necessity than ability. Most of the crew, non-officers, had a least a decade on the man-child and rarely let him forget it.

Cookie nodded to the First Mate as he passed, giving him a nod. "Mr. Ellis."

Ellis just glared at the cook, the scowl on his face growing deeper. He pushed past the older man, his eyes focused on the one thing that could dare haze him for his lack of experience.

"Cartwright, where the devil have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" Mr. Ellis squared his shoulders, using his full height to tower of the Cabin Boy. Ben might have been more intimidated if he wasn't so focused on the trail of dirty footprints leading from the other end of the deck to right beneath the First Mate's feet. '_Figures._' He thought as he huffed out a sigh.

"I'm almost done here, Sir." Ben said as he stood to face Ellis. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"You were supposed to be down to the Quarter Master an hour ago! I told you this morning I needed you to sort through that last shipment of supplies!"

Ben's eyebrows knitted together in thought. He hadn't even seen Mr. Ellis since supper the night before. "But, Sir-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ellis roared. "Thanks to you I'm completely behind! How could you be so thoughtless?"

Ben knew from experience it was better to keep his mouth shut and agree with the First Mate when he was in one of his moods. Today, however, he had to bite down on his tongue quite hard to keep it that way. "I could run down there now if-"

Ellis cut him off with a wave of his meaty hand. His voice was quiet. "No, don't even bother. I have half a mind to report you to Captain Stoddard, let him deal with your lazy work ethic. He'd never stand for it, boot you off at the next port and let you find your own way back to Civilization. You're an awful excuse for a sailor and the Captain will never make you an officer."

Ben felt his hand clench into a fist, nails digging into his palm. He caught himself before he wound his arm back and aimed for the First Mate's nose.

Mr. Ellis closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I can't deal with this right now. Tomorrow after your chores you are to report to the aft deck. I'm sure I can find _something_ to help your memory problems."

Ben shoulders heaved with angry breaths, his eyes following the First Mate as he stalked off. The holystone flew across the deck, landing with a crack against the inner cabin wall.

"_Captain Stoddard will never make you an officer_."

Ben shuffled to the rail, resting his elbows on the wood and rested his chin in his hands. He tried to let the shimmering water and the sounds of waves slapping against the ship distract his thoughts with very little success. Instead, he kept replaying the encounter with Mr. Ellis in his head, the sinking in the pit of his stomach growing deeper and deeper.

Being at sea was a more rewarding life than Ben ever dreamed. The satisfaction of a hard job well done, a purpose to drive him, and the chance to prove himself away from the shadow of a well-meaning but "I-Know-Better-Than-You" Older Brother filled him with a deep pride. It was something that fulfilled his adventurous soul and challenged his active mind.

Truth be told, late at night before drifting off to sleep, he imagined himself in a crisp officer's uniform at Captain Stoddard's side, bellowing the Captain's orders for the crew to hear. He would stand at the helm, guiding _The_ _Wanderer_ and her crew to Ports not yet discovered and connecting the more civilized West with exotic ports of discoveries. Through the darkest nights with waves threatening to swallow her whole, Ben would guide _The_ _Wanderer_ safely home without a single soul lost to the elements or Davy Jones' Locker. The Captain would clap him on the shoulder, ready to burst with pride. The Board of Directors, impressed with his courage and ability, would recommend him for his own set of Captain Stripes and a ship to command. He and Captain Stoddard would travel the waters together as partners, continuing their adventures of far off places.

He couldn't help the small smile that crept on his face. Maybe he was a little ahead of himself.

A light breeze blew across the deck, taking with it most of his temper. A small flame of anger smoldered, but the balm of his daydream was beginning to sooth away the initial heat. He turned back to find his stone halfway down the deck. Returning to his spot, he knelt down once more.

_Skritch, skritch, skritch._

There was plenty of time left for Ben Cartwright to command teams of men, to travel to far, undiscovered countries, to brave the elements of nature and man, there was no doubt about that. But for now, he would scrub and shine.


	3. The Ghost Ship

Adventures of a Lad at Sea  
>Chapter 3: The Ghost Ship<br>Summary: On Ben's first overnight watch, our favorite Cabin Boy's mind is playing tricks on him. …Or is it? A Halloween Adventure!  
>Rating: G<br>Warnings: None  
>Feedback: Yes, please!<p>

...

Ben Cartwright snuggled deeper into the collar of his woolen coat, trying to shield his freezing nose from the harsh wind blowing across the deck. The late October air was sharp, stealing breath from crewmen's lungs. The moon and few stars that escaped the heavy cloud cover twinkled dimly, giving barely enough light to see the outline of his hand stretched out in front of his face.

In the middle of the night only a skeleton crew of essential workers were awake to maintain their course and speed. The normal night watchman, a thin, lanky man who answered to Slim Jim, caught a barking, breath-stealing cough three days earlier and had been holed up with the Sawbones in his Medical Office ever since. The crew of _The Wanderer_, always looking out for their fellow shipmates, swapped their shifts and duties to cover Slim Jim's assignments. Their youngest crewman was just as eager to help. Though Ben was excited to be covering his first solo watch and glad to help out, he wished Slim Jim would have picked a warmer night to be sick.

_Or at least one that wasn't quite so creepy, _Ben thought.

The men had tried to warn him, that in the overnight hours the eyes and mind played tricked in the dim light. While he listened and nodded at the appropriate times, nothing quite prepared him for the actual experience. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to describe how utterly alone he felt in the silence. At least there was only an hour of his watch left.

_And only a little over three weeks before we're back in Boston for the winter!_

Ben leaned against the rail, his elbows propping him up and his gloved hands under his chin. A huff of air escaped in a sigh as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A little over three weeks until he would see Elizabeth again.

Captain Stoddard, commander of _The_ _Wanderer_ and, for lack of a better word, Ben's savior had introduced his little Cabin Boy to his only daughter hoping to strike up a friendship between the two. A beauty of a child with an impish smile and curls of brown hair, Elizabeth's wit and imagination quickly drew Ben out of the quiet shell he formed around himself. In that first winter _The Wanderer_ was docked in port, the two children grew and influenced each other. Together, they romped through the streets of Boston, finding more than their fair share of childish mischief and misdeeds. Liz's sense of adventure was tempered by Ben's cautious steps. The Cabin Boy's determination encouraged the dreamer in the Captain's daughter.

Even after Captain Stoddard set sail again with little Cartwright in tow, the two continued to keep in touch through letters, sending long descriptions of their thoughts and experiences. Over the long voyage they never felt apart as Ben wrote Liz more often than he sent word to his older brother. Now that he was so close to seeing his dear friend again, Ben couldn't stop his thoughts from all too often straying toward the pretty girl with sparkling amber eyes and dark, fan-like lashes.

Ben shook his head clear. As much as he enjoyed his wandering thoughts, he needed to keep his head about him. With every new letter he received, the tightness around his chest squeezed more tightly and the lurching flip of his stomach was more pronounced. He would ever be able to speak to the Captain about it. Maybe Cookie could explain the funny feelings he had about his favorite playmate every time he pictured her face.

A sudden, wailing cry broke the silence. Startled, Ben's elbow smacked on the railing, sending a shooting pain up the bone. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as his right hand cradled his elbow. Carefully he leaned forward, his head searching right and left across the water. A shiver ran down his spine.

There was nothing there.

Ben swallowed back a frustrated growl. Someone had to be playing a trick on him. Still nursing his smarting arm, he turned around, determined to catch him. "Alright," Ben forced courage into his tone. "Very funny, you got me. Now cut it out before I pitch you overboard!"

Something across the water flashed and caught his eye. Ben jumped, the breath caught in his throat. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest. Before he realized he was moving, a soft "oof" escaped his throat as his back collided with the wooden pole of the mast. He swallowed. "It's just a trick, Cartwright. Just one of the guys playing a stupid trick on you. Snap out of it, you baby!"

Ben turned again, his eyebrows knitted together with a determined scowl. He sucked in a lungful of air, letting it his slowly through his teeth. He was sure there were a few hidden crewmates having a good laugh at his expense.

He choked on the air in his lungs, his eyes wide as he froze. It was off in the distance on the starboard side, inching steadily closer. Dark and graceful, it seemed to float just above the surface.

It was a clipper ship, once proud and regal, now the sail hung clumsily on a jagged, broken mast. The dirty canvas shredded and drooping. The wooden sides were covered with barnacles and seaweed, the polish dulled by weather and time.

As it drifted closer, Ben's skin crawled with the prickly feeling of being watched. His hands trembled, his stomach churned. A gust of wind blew, nearly taking Ben's cap with it. His mouth drew into a fine line. He sucked in a deep lungful of air, drawing his chest up with more courage than he felt. A gust of wind picked up again carrying the cry of voices, a low and mournful sound that chilled his bones. Ben squinted as the ship passed, desperately searching the deck.

There wasn't a soul on board.

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the ship slipped quietly on, disappearing into the night. Ben wrapped his arms around the mast, holding himself upright. His chest heaved, aching as his lungs tried to pull in air. _How in the world am I ever going to explain this in the morning?_ Even the voice in his head whined with disbelief.

All through the night, Ben kept his eyes on the horizon where he had last seen the ship. Not until the first golden streaks of light broke over the ocean did he release his clenched jaw.

…

"But I swear I really did see it!" Ben's voice jumped an octave, his eyebrows angrily scrunched together. The loud guffaws and chuckles were muffled and hidden behind morning coffee mugs. The sailors gathered around the morning table were enjoying the last few moments before the watched changed.

"Aye, Laddie," Collins said, a lanky rigger with bright cheeks and a pinched nose. "You _think _you seen it. But you said yourself there weren't no crew on board. You tell me how a ship's supposed to go someplace with no one to steer her?"

Ben opened his mouth but clamped it tightly shut when he had no answer for him.

"Now, now," a voice interrupted. "Let's hear the kid out." Ben turned his head and found Alan Tynes, a powder monkey who sailed under Captain Stoddard longer than most of the other crew had been alive. His eye twinkled, betraying his love to spin tall tales, especially in the weeks leading up to All Saints Day.

"Legend has it that a ship," Tynes continued. _The Idlewind_, was lost in these parts nearly two decades ago. Seems the Captain had just married himself a pretty little wife and to celebrate decided to ship out, but brought her along. Now we all know that that's your first mistake, bringin' a woman on board. And he set sail on Friday, March 13th, mistake number two. Now what he didn't know was that his first mate was in love with his wife as well. So overcome with rage and jealousy, he steered _The Idlewind _headfirst into a hurricane and she sank. Everyone on board was lost. Now she roams the sea, trying to find her way back to port."

The small group was lost to their thoughts for only a few moments before the final watch bell clanged. "C'mon, Men." Collins said quickly. Ellis'll have our heads if we don't shake a tail feather. You go get yourself a good morning's sleep, Ben. Things'll be a whole lot clearer when you wake up." The other men quickly drained their mugs and stood from the small table, still chuckling over the Cabin Boy's tale.

Ben sighed deeply, his chin propped up with a hand. He had to admit, if he had been one of the men, he wouldn't believe him either.

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. Peeking up from under the brim of his cap, he found Tynes looking kindly down at him. "Don't listen to them, Ben. If you saw it, you saw it. There are enough nay-sayers around without you doubting yourself." He gently thumped the small shoulders before walking off for this watch.

Ben's eyes followed the sailor, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, it's true." Ben said quietly. "I can promise it's true."


End file.
